


Enough!

by baroque_mongoose



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Gen, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2520830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baroque_mongoose/pseuds/baroque_mongoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zeetha enjoys winding up Mr Wooster a little too much.  As far as she's concerned, it's all good clean fun... until she takes it too far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in the monastic fortress-depot of St Szpac, and incorporates events from the following two panels: http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/comic.php?date=20141020 and http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/comic.php?date=20141024. A small part of the dialogue is directly quoted from these panels, although I have taken the liberty of altering Mr Wooster's "Say..." to "I say..." because he is British.
> 
> The bare bones of the story originally developed on Mr Wooster's Twitter (@ArdsleyWooster); I'm going to be cosplaying him at Nine Worlds in 2015 and wanted to get into the character, so the Twitter seemed like a good idea!

Zeetha leaned idly against the chilly stone of St Szpac, letting her gaze rest on the tousled head of Ardsley Wooster, who was staring out of a nearby window.

“Did you just say 'damn', Wooster?” she enquired.

He glanced round at her. “I did.”

“Can you blame him?” asked Agatha. “I mean, Gil or Martellus or both of them could show up at any time, and as if that wasn't enough...” She shot a glance at Violetta.

“Yeah,” said Violetta heavily. “Yeah. My aunt. It's all right. You can say it.”

“What'll happen if Gil and Martellus both show up at the same time and find your aunt?” asked Krosp. “That could really get interesting.”

“I think that's one piece of interest I can currently forgo,” observed Mr Wooster bitterly from the window. “It seems unlikely to be pleasant.”

“Whew,” said Zeetha, a note of amusement in her voice. “You're wound so tight I could use you as a bowstring, aren't you?”

He turned to face the rest of the group. “Yes,” he said, simply. “I know what's the matter with me. I'll be fine once the fighting actually starts. It's just waiting for it to happen.”

Agatha grinned. “So all you really need to do is go and punch Martellus on the nose?”

“That,” he said with feeling, “would be perfect.” Then his face immediately changed. “Oh... Violetta. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. He is your cousin, after all.”

Violetta shrugged. “Wooster,” she replied, “if you do punch Martellus on the nose, I shall probably smooch you. No need to apologise at all.”

Mr Wooster froze to the spot, speechless, although his eyebrows certainly did their best to compensate for that. Zeetha laughed aloud. “Heee! Weren't expecting _that_ , were you, Wooster?”

“Well. Er. One wouldn't actually say that sort of thing in England,” Mr Wooster managed, taking refuge in the stiffest formality he knew how to summon.

Violetta was hiding a smile. “You're not offended, are you?” she asked.

“I should be extremely impolite if I were,” he replied. “Merely startled, I assure you.”

“If he does punch von Blitzengaard on the nose,” observed Krosp to Agatha, “all the starch he's got in him won't save him from being beaten to a jelly.”

“He knows that, and he'd still do it if he had to,” said Agatha, in an undertone. “Which is why I plan to... no, I'll talk about that later.”

Mr Wooster was already by the door. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said.

“Hey!” snapped Krosp.

Mr Wooster arched a very deliberate left eyebrow. “I beg your pardon. Excuse me, ladies... and Krosp.”

“Yeah. You're no lady, Krosp,” grinned Zeetha. Krosp merely hissed at her.

In the momentary silence that followed, Mr Wooster's polished patent-leather shoes could be heard echoing away down the corridor.

“Bet you wouldn't really smooch that over-analytical stuffed shirt, even if he did punch your cousin's nose,” said Zeetha, looking down at Violetta.

“Hey!” Violetta protested, much more softly. “Keep your voice down. I'll bet you anything he heard that.”

“Who cares? You wouldn't, would you?”

“Well...” Violetta considered. “Probably not if it's going to blow all his gears like that.”

Zeetha grinned evilly. “He might really like having all his gears blown, though.”

“Yes. Well,” said Violetta. “If I did, it wouldn't be... I mean, that is to say... well, you know how it is. I'm missing someone else anyway.”

“Then you shouldn't smooch Mr Wooster,” said Agatha. “I don't know what his feelings are, because it's not like he'd go round broadcasting them, but if he doesn't care about you you'll just confuse him, and if he does it's not fair unless you really mean it.”

“So what about you and Gil and Tarvek?” demanded Krosp. “The eternal triangle, if I'm not mistaken?”

Agatha sighed. “Krosp. Mr Wooster is British. When he said they don't do things the same over there, he wasn't messing about. If you kissed Mr Wooster...”

“I am _so_ not planning to kiss Mr Wooster,” Krosp interrupted.

“Not you personally, you stupid cat. I mean, if someone kissed him...”

“Less of that. I am your liege lord, remember?”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah. Well then, my stupid liege, if someone kissed Mr Wooster, he'd take it to mean they wanted to marry him.”

Zeetha laughed. “No wonder he never gets kissed.”

“You don't _know_ he never gets kissed,” said Agatha, reasonably. “I mean, do you really think he'd go round telling you if he did?”

“Yeah,” said Violetta. “You'd be the last person he'd tell, Zeetha. All you ever do is wind him up.”

“Well, he's so easy to wind up,” said Zeetha. “You just pull his strings and off he goes. I mean, all I've got to do is _look_ at him a certain way sometimes and he...”

“Yes, about that,” said Agatha heavily. “Do you think you could perhaps tone that down a little? After all, we have all got to work together.”

“Awww, but it's fun!” Zeetha protested.

Violetta sighed. “I am so sorry I started this.”

Mr Wooster returned. “One of the monks is coming this way,” he announced. “I think we're about to meet the Abbot.”

“Oh, good,” said Agatha. “Maybe we'll be able to help each other.”

The monk entered. “Father Gerät will see you now,” he announced.

They followed him down the corridor. Zeetha, as ever, fell into step beside Agatha, which left Violetta and Mr Wooster exchanging slightly uncomfortable glances. He frowned darkly for a moment, not at Violetta but apparently at something inside his head, and then leaned down to speak quietly into her ear.

“This is ridiculous,” he said. “We're friends. I'm not having Zeetha spoil that.”

She smiled up at him, relieved, and nodded back. “Yeah. Best way.”

So she walked beside him as she usually did, and after a little while she ventured, “You didn't hear what she said as you were leaving, did you?”

“I did.” His face was like thunder. Violetta decided that an immediate change of subject was required.

“Do you know anything about this Abbot?” she asked.

“Not a great deal. I did see him from a distance earlier. He has some impressive prosthetic arms, and the way he moves suggests it isn't just his arms. I shudder to think what must have happened to him.”

“Train accident, maybe?” Violetta suggested.

“That's possible. Live steam is dangerous stuff.”

The monk ushered them into a spacious room, where the Abbot was waiting for them along with Brother Ulm, whom they all recognised from the train. On seeing him, Mr Wooster and Violetta exchanged a sharp glance which did not go unnoticed by Zeetha; she slipped out of the Abbot's sight behind Agatha in order to shoot Mr Wooster a very knowing look. Mr Wooster just glared back at her. Now was not the time for playing mind games.

“Ah! Ladies! Gentlemen! Welcome to St Szpac,” said the Abbot, his broad face wreathed in smiles. Brother Ulm stood dourly in the background; he seemed puzzled, too, as though not quite sure what the Abbot was doing. Mr Wooster regarded him thoughtfully.

Naturally, the discussion immediately turned to the subject of Lady Selnikov. Mr Wooster felt a pang of sympathy for Violetta; it was bad enough having the odious Martellus von Blitzengaard as a cousin, without also having Lady Selnikov as an aunt. She really had been extremely unfortunate with her relatives. And now, it seemed, Lady Selnikov had complicated matters still further by disappearing, almost certainly somewhere within the fortress of St Szpac. She would hardly have gone running out into the snow with von Blitzengaard on her trail.

Mr Wooster felt a sudden surge of adrenalin. This was the kind of situation at which he knew he excelled. Tracking a dangerous fugitive through the uncharted depths of a secret fortress, involving a one-to-one battle of wits and then the final touch of subtlety required to capture his quarry alive... oh yes. That was what he was made for. He was just considering the most tactful and diplomatic way to request the Abbot's permission to go after Lady Selnikov when Violetta unexpectedly beat him to it.

“Ah!” she exclaimed brightly. “So you want us to go and find her!”

“Dear me, no,” replied the Abbot. “Quite the opposite.”

“Damn,” muttered Mr Wooster, very quietly, under his breath. He stood and listened as the Abbot gave a long explanation about the many and varied dangers buried in the vaults of St Szpac (just as likely to get Lady Selnikov as anyone following her, he reflected), and informed them in no uncertain terms that they would be staying put for their own safety.

I don't want safety, Father Abbot, with all respect to you, he thought. I want some action. Things are going extremely wrong out there in several different directions, and I would like to help put them at least right enough to get Lady Heterodyne safely out of here... what?

“Of course,” the Abbot was saying, “I have received messages from both the young Baron and the new Storm King demanding that you be kept safe until their arrival. _One_ of them even made an attempt to be somewhat _polite_.”

Probably Master Gil, thought Mr Wooster. From what I've seen so far of von Blitzengaard, he wouldn't know polite if he kicked it over in the street. But I thought he was after Lady Selnikov? Master Gil I can understand, since he knows Lady Heterodyne well enough to look for her wherever any chaos breaks out. But how does von Blitzengaard know, or guess, that she is here? I suppose... I suppose he must have a spy in Master Gil's camp. Well, well. Perhaps he can manage a basic level of subtlety after all.

“Hmf,” the Abbot continued. “You are not a lost handbag. We will not just hand you over. All the same, I would not enjoy explaining to such people that you were allowed to come to harm while a guest here. Brother Ulm will see to your needs.” And, with that, he abruptly departed, slamming the door decisively behind him.

Brother Ulm ran to the door in a panic. “I... I what?!”

Mr Wooster was aware that Violetta had edged up behind him, close enough to be able to talk in his left ear. He leant over slightly. “I say... wasn't he the one trying to kill the Lady Heterodyne?” he asked, out of the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” said Violetta, in the same undertone. “That's him.”

“Heh.” Mr Wooster grinned. “I've got a certain respect for this Abbot. If I'm not mistaken, he's just assigned a penance... oh, for goodness' _sake!”_

“What?” Violetta was puzzled.

“Zeetha. Did you see the way she just leered? All right, this stops here and now. I've had enough.” He strode forward. “Zeetha.”

“What the hell...?” said Krosp, who for once was definitely not up to speed.

“Wooster, what are you doing?” demanded Violetta. “We've got a lot of questions to ask of Brother Ulm here.”

“He's not going anywhere,” said Mr Wooster grimly. “He can wait a moment until we get our little internal divisions sorted out.”

Zeetha flicked an eyebrow at him. “You fancy punching my nose instead of Martellus' now? Oh, do try. I could do with an amusing diversion.”

“No,” said Mr Wooster levelly. “I won't beat you with your own weapons, so I'm going to use mine. You heard the Abbot. Gilgamesh Wulfenbach is on his way over here.”

“Yeah, so? I can't imagine _you'd_ be too overjoyed about that.”

“Oh, I'm not, believe me. But you might just possibly wish to consider the situation your Mr Higgs is going to find himself in, if he's on that airship.”

Zeetha went pale. “Ah. Yeah. Er... that won't be an easy one for him. Maybe he's managed to get out of it.”

“For the sake of everyone involved I hope he has,” replied Mr Wooster. “But if he hasn't... well, I don't think any of us here would want Master Gil to find out where his loyalties really lie, would we? I most certainly would not. I have nothing against Mr Higgs, and I know from experience exactly what Master Gil can be like.”

“Yeah... he... er... he kind of went off at you, didn't he?” said Zeetha, uncomfortably.

“More or less in the manner of a full-scale volcanic explosion. Yes. And while your Mr Higgs is considerably more fireproof than I am, I think it would be best if he did not have to deal with that.”

Zeetha was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Well. You got any ideas, then?”

“Indeed I have.” Mr Wooster paused to allow these three words to take effect. “Provided, of course, that we have a truce.”

“Hey, we've always been friends, haven't we?” said Zeetha.

“Yes. After a fashion. But I want an end to this business concerning Violetta. It's no more fair on her than it is on me. Of course, I do understand what you're really trying to do, and I admit I'm flattered. Nonetheless, pressure won't work.”

“Hold on,” said Violetta. “What she's really trying to do? You mean other than wind you up?”

“Violetta,” said Mr Wooster, “Zeetha is a highly trained warrior. She knows exactly when someone is and is not within earshot. If I overhear her betting you that you wouldn't, as she puts it, smooch me, and in terms uncomplimentary to myself, then I was meant to overhear. Zeetha is not stupid. She knows how we both respond to a challenge.”

“What?!” shouted Violetta. “Zeetha? You were trying to set us up?”

“Well... hey, he's got brains, and he's not really the stuffed shirt he looks, and if we're going to be honest you're probably wasting your time over von Zinzer, come on, I mean how many girls has he got after him at the moment?”

“You...”

Agatha held up a hand. “Stop!”

Mr Wooster rolled his eyes heavenwards. “I'm starting to wonder if it might not be simpler if I stayed here and joined the Corbettites,” he observed.

“Don't you bloody dare,” snapped Violetta. “And you, Zeetha, if you so much as open your mouth to reply I'll shove this man's hat in it.”

“Higgs,” said Mr Wooster. “Truce. Yes?”

Zeetha nodded vigorously, glancing between the furious Violetta and Brother Ulm's hat as she did so.

“Excellent,” said Mr Wooster, with deep satisfaction. “But first of all, Brother Ulm here has some questions to answer.”

“Mother of steam,” muttered Brother Ulm. “If you join our Order, I'm away back to Ireland to be a hermit.”

Agatha hastily beckoned Zeetha and Violetta. “You two need to make it up. Now,” she said. “Things are too dangerous for us not to be pulling together. As I did try to tell you earlier, Zeetha.”

“Yeah... I'm sorry,” said Zeetha. “Sometimes I forget that not everyone is from Skifander.”

“The lack of green hair isn't a big clue?” asked Violetta, still unmollified.

“Come on, Violetta, she did apologise,” said Agatha. “And, besides, she meant well. If she was going to try to set you up with someone, I guess she could have picked a worse person.”

“Oh yeah. I mean, he's brave, and... but... well. You know,” said Violetta. “All right, then. Apology accepted. Just let me know next time you get ideas about fixing me up, OK?”

Zeetha grinned. “OK. I will. Promise. Now I'm going to go and help him deal with that monk.”

“He doesn't look much like he needs it,” observed Agatha. “He... seems to be dealing with his tension rather well.”

“Yeah,” said Violetta. “He's giving it all to Brother Ulm. Never seen a monk look so scared. Still, I think I'll go and help him too. I see Krosp's already in on the action.”

“He _is_ kind of attractive when he's in that determined mood, don't you think?” asked Agatha innocently.

Violetta gave her a look. “Oh, for goodness' sake. Don't you start!"


End file.
